Blackout
by chronicler-of-knuckles
Summary: When a winter storm puts the lights out for most of the NE states for weeks, the Banzai Institute finds itself the only light of hope in very dark times.
1. Chapter 1

Blackout

By The Chronicler

* * *

Wind whistled through the night, twirling and dancing, rocking the trees. Their half frozen branches creaked in protest.

A branch snapped. A slim, little limb so fine it floated through the air rather than fell, swishing this way and that, amidst a light shower of powder snow. Bright moon light reflected off the iced limb, sparkling and glinting as it twisted and blew, until it finally came to rest on a larger branch below

Already over burdened with snow and ice, its back bowed by the cold wind, the added weight of one, tiny, whisp of a limb was enough.... the proverbial straw that broke the equally proverbial camel's back.

The branch splintered, tore itself from the trunk, and came crashing down across the power lines below.

In one fateful breath of wind the civilized world was brought down in a shower of snow and sparks, down into an existence of dark, dark, forever dark...

080808

Part One

080808

Mrs. Eunice Johnson set the battery lantern on the corner of her desk.

"Mrs. Johnson, that you?" came a call from the balcony that over looked the entry and her desk.

"Yea." She grabbed her flashlight and turned it to light the stairs for Peggy Banzai. "You and the baby alright?"

Peggy carefully made her way down, holding her two year old daughter in her arms. Close behind her was four year old J.B. being protectively lead under the arm of six year old Ducky. "Why are the lights out? Didn't the generator kick on?" Peggy wanted to know.

"Don't know." Mrs. Johnson answered. She pulled out her chair for Peggy to sit down, before scooping up little J.B. and sitting him down on the file cabinet behind her desk. She turned and held her hands out to Ducky.

The little girl shook her head. Holding up her A-Team flashlight, she declared "I'm gonna go check on my horses." She turned and headed for the door.

"Ducky..." Peggy started, but it was Mrs. Johnson who stopped her.

"Hold on there, cowgirl." She grabbed the back of the little girl's PJs and pulled her back. "I need you to look after Peggy and the babies."

"I'm not a baby!" J.B. declared, pounding himself in the chest.

"Are too!" Ducky returned.

J.B. pouted. "Mommy!" he wined.

Suddenly the lights flickered then buzzed on.

"About time." Mrs. Johnson breathed.

"And then there was light!" announced Perfect Tommy as he walked into the entry.

"Uncle Tommy!" Ducky cheered, running and leaping into his arms.

Laughing, Perfect Tommy hugged her. "And what are you doing outta bed? Don't tell me the light goin' out woke you little rugrats up."

"J.B. was scared." Ducky told him.

"Was not!" the child protested.

Perfect Tommy swung the girl around onto his back, holding onto a leg while she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Once secure, he hobbled over and bent down so as to be eye to eye with J.B. "You weren't afraid?" he asked in awe.

J.B. shook his head, his black curls bouncing falling into his eyes. With a little hand, he brushed them away.

"Well, maybe you should stick with me then, buddy." Tommy winked at Peggy, before turning back to her son. "'Cause I was shaking in my skibbies."

The children giggled. They didn't find the thought of their uncle being scared so funny. But the fact that he had said skibbies... now that was something to laugh about.

"What's going on?" Peggy asked now that the children were distracted. "Why didn't the generator kick on?"

"It did." Perfect Tommy reminded her, nodding up at the lights. "Just took a moment longer is all. A cold start does that." He glanced at the children, then rose up. "Mrs. J, Rawhide says to shut down the excess systems. Everyone has go-phones, we don't need the house com system. Stuff like that. And the kitchen staff needs to get down to the freezers, take inventory. We need everything turned off that we don't need."

"We're stocked for winter." she reminded him.

"He knows." Perfect Tommy shrugged. He wrapped an arm around J.B. and hiked him up under his arm. "How'd you little rugrats like to have a sleep over, huh?"

"In your room?" Ducky asked excitedly.

Peggy chuckled. "Ah, no." she assured. She had seen Perfect Tommy's room. She didn't need to wait for his answer to know there was no way in hell the children were gonna step foot in that mess. "Zoey's room." She rose to her feet. "Tell Buckaroo to come through our door when he comes to bed. Don't want him stepping on anyone."

"I'll tell him." Mrs. J assured. She eyed Perfect Tommy. "You'll get them to bed?"

He nodded. "Alrighty, rugrats, let's say good night to aunty Eunice."

J.B. yawned. Ducky offered a tired wave before dropping her head on her uncle's shoulder.

Mrs. Johnson smiled. "Make sure to get them some extra blankets." she told him, taking a moment to wrap her coat around Peggy's shoulders. "And you, you keep that little lady warm."

Peggy smiled. She tugged the coat around her and her little girl. "Good night, Eunice." Then she turned and started back up the stairs.

Perfect Tommy scooted J.B. up on his hip and was about to follow, when Mrs. Johnson stopped him.

"Tommy? We're digging in for the long haul, aren't we?" she wanted to know.

The Cavalier became serious. "Yea, looks like it. Whole city is down.... an' probably a lot more."

"Refugees?" she wondered.

"We'll know more come mornin'." He smiled down at J.B. as he snuggled under his chin. "Better get these rugrats to bed."

Mrs. Johnson watched as he lugged the two children up the stairs. She could hear Ducky's tired voice ask "Uncle Tommy?"

"Yea, sweets?"

"Whatta we gonna haul long?"

Perfect Tommy's laughter echoed down the stairs and through the halls.

Mrs. Johnson shook her head, smiling. "Oh life with children." she whispered to herself. Her hand dropped to her ever so slightly bulging belly. For a moment she wondered if Perfect Tommy could juggle three rugrats up the stairs. For another moment she wondered how he was going to react when he found out... not to mention Rawhide and Buckaroo and the others. So far only New Jersey knew. But it was only a matter of time... Jeez, if it wasn't for her baggy sweat shirts, they'd already know.

The lights dimmed for a moment.

She sighed. Grabbing her check list from her desk, she headed off. It was gonna be a long, cold night and she had a lot of work to do if they were gonna make the next long, cold night.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Knuckles stood in the entry of the Jessie James Club and watched the abandon street out the front windows.

The snow was piled half way up the big windows. Every time the street plow came through, the snow piled higher. It was now three feet high.

That left Knuckles two feet and some few odd inches to see over the top. Not that it should bother her any. She never used the front doors anyway, and the heating rods under the walks kept the doors clear and the ice melted.

Well, they would if there was electricity.

For six days the blackout had shut down the entire city. The entire state! And most of the rest of the northern states and a good chunk of southern Canada. And the only news was that it was gonna be a long time before the power came back on again.

Gage stepped pass Knuckles and pulled the wood colored steel shutters across the window. "I can finish. You better get going before the roads are closed." he advised, locking the shutters in place.

Knuckles sighed. "I hate leaving." she mumbled. "Feels too much like running."

Her head bouncer glanced at her and grinned. "Not even the toughest of the toughies can win against Mother Nature." He shrugged. "Besides, the Cavaliers are waiting for supplies."

"Yadda, yadda, yadda." She turned and walked through the tunnel into the main room of the club.

The bar was closed down, all the bottles and glasses locked away, safe and sound, in the storage cellar. The big, decorative mirrors that surrounded the spiral stair case at the center of the island bar were covered with wooden planks. The chairs were all turned over on the tables, the polished dance floor was covered with a dry pad to protect it from the temperature drops. The colored lights had been pulled down and boxed. The windows were all shuttered close. The side exit doors were all barred and double locked.

The Jessie James Club was shut down, locked up, and ready to stand against anything the blacked out city might throw at it.

Oddity sat up on the stage and wined.

Knuckles huffed at him. "Quit worrying. No one's gonna get in here while we're away." She shook her head as she grabbed his leash and her coat off the bar and started across the dance floor to him. "'Sides, anyone determined enough to make it pass the locks, the security systems, and the odd booby trap probably isn't after your chew toys." That said, she paused to look around again.

"Quit dilly-dallying, Knuckles." Gage hollered at her as he came through the club, shutting down the last of the generator powered lights. "I'm not leaving until you are well on your way... and you know how I get when I miss breakfast with my girls!"

"Yadda, yadda..."

"Jessie..."

"We're going!" Knuckles snapped. She smiled up at him. "Kiss the girls for me. Tell them they'll each get a puppy for Valentines."

"Ha!" Gage barked. "Over your dead body. That's all I need." As he came up to the stage, he snatched at Oddity's mane. "Another mutt!"

"Hey!" Knuckles cried, insulted for her pet. "He isn't a mutt! He's a pure bred Silver Austrian..."

"Yadda, yadda, yadda. Get!" He opened the door and Oddity ran out, closely followed by Knuckles. "Drive safe. And call me when you get to the Institute!"

"Yes, daddy." she chirped, before he slammed the door behind her.

With one more sigh, she turned to her hummer. She missed her old truck, but mornings like this she silently thanked TommyBoy and crew for her hummer (though she'd never forgive that girl for shooting her beloved truck). Her truck would have never started in weather this cold. Not to mention haul the trailer of fuel , batteries, and a few other this and that's the Institute needed, over icy roads, at dawn, in black out USA..

She opened the door and, after Oddity had hopped in, she threw in her coat and climbed in after. "Here we go." she mumbled, sliding in the key card.

The powerful engine roared to life and Knuckles, Oddity, and the hummer started the long drive for the Banzai Institute.

808080

Pinky Carruthers shivered.

Not that he was really cold. Not that he was ever cold on gate duty any more... not after Alaska Anne sent him that parka last Christmas. Even the razor crisp, icy air of the dawn hours wasn't enough to make its way through the thick Klondike bear fur.

It was that dead, emptiness out there, beyond the wall of the Institute that sent shivers up the gate keeper's spine.

It was nearly eight in the morning. They were in a nice, suburban neighborhood. The street should have been busy with morning traffic, folks heading to their every day, suit and tie, white collar jobs. And the kids should have been lined up at the bus stop. bundled up so tight against the winter weather that they walk like the State Marshmallow Man. The corner video joint generally had a delivery truck this time of morning this day of the week. The mail delivery truck should have been making its way down the street, one mail box at a time. There were always a few die hard fans hanging around the gate 24/7 no matter how cold, how hard it rained, nor how dark it got. And, rain or shine, old maid Ms. Olson should have been limping her way across the entrance of the Institute on her morning walk, pausing only long enough to blow a kiss and wink at which ever guard happened to be on watch.

Hell, just yesterday, the old lady had put the fear of love making into one of the newer, better looking gate guards.

But, today, the only movement outside the gate was a pair of newbie residents shoveling the front drive.

Pinky chuckled. He wondered how long the old timers were gonna let those kids bust their backs before they introduced them to the plow. Rawhide liked to give the lecture of how physical labor was good for the soul, but, personally, Pinky thought the old cowboy just liked putting them to work.

One of the residents paused to lean on the shovel. She pushed back her hood to get a better look at something coming up the sidewalk.

Pinky straightened up. Standing on the wall, he couldn't quite see as far down the street as the two residents on street level outside the wall could. So, anything that had caught their attention, definitely had his.

The resident handed her shovel back to her companion, before taking a few steps down the street, momentarily out of sight. A minute later, she returned to the front drive with two small children; one on her hip, the other clutching at her pant leg. Both wore nothing more than booted PJs, zipped right up under their chins. Their legs were wet from walking through the snow, the toes of their booties stiff and icy, and they were shivering so hard their teeth were clattering.

"Pinky!" called the other resident who dropped the shovels and hurried to scoop up the second child.

"Bring them in." Pinky answered, before heading for the steps and hurrying down to meet them. "Stone, wake up a doc!" he ordered another guard who was pulling the gate open for the residents. "Where did they come from?" he wanted to know as the two children were presented to him like freshly caught river trout.

"They were peeking around the tree." the girl explained. "Look at them. Near half frozen."

"Da." the other resident agreed, opening up his coat and wrapping it around the child in his arms. "Blue boy." he agreed in his broken English.

"They're too young to be wandering around out there alone." the girl observed. She tilted the little head up and asked "Where's your mama, sweety?"

But the child was shivering too hard to speak.

"Take them to the infirmary." Pinky ordered, slipping out of his coat and wrapping it around the resident and her cargo. "Stone, take the gate. I'm goin' out to see if I can't find out where these rugrats came from."

"But your coat..." the resident protested.

"Trust me.... I won't be out that long." He shivered, already freezing. "Not long at all."

808080

He was just closing his eyes when, suddenly....

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddydaddydaddydad...."

Buckaroo shot upright so sudden he had to snatch little J.B. to keep from knocking him off of the bed.

Seemingly unaware of any problem with his method of waking his father up, the boy sat on Buckaroo's legs and grinned up at him. "Daddy, Ducky and I wanted to watch cartoons. We always watch cartoons with Uncle Tommy on Saturdays. But there aren't any. Why's that? It's okay though, 'cause Ducky an' I wanna play in the snow, but Uncle Tommy.... he's all grumpy. He really likes his cartoons. How old is he anyway?" he chattered, tilting his head to one side, black curls bouncing on his forehead, his striking blue eyes blinking at him, waiting for an answer.

But before Buckaroo could even consider an answer, Peggy reached across the bed and scooped her son up. "Ask your father in about, oh, four hours. I'm sure he'll be awake enough then to answer." she suggested, dropping him on his feet on the floor. With a pat on his rear, she scooted him away. "Now, off with you. Once you and the girls are dress, we'll head down for breakfast. And bundle up!"

"Yes, ma'am." J.B. called over his shoulder as he bounced into the next room.

Once alone, Peggy knelt on the bed and gently leaned into Buckaroo, pushing him back down in the bed. "As for you... Four hours. Understand?" she breathed, her lips brushing across his. "I don't want to see you out of this bed for four whole hours.... not until noon. Any questions?... Shut up! Good!" Snatching a quick kiss, she tucked the blankets in around him. Then, with a grin, she rose up from the bed, and started for the next room.

With a tired sigh, Buckaroo closed his eyes and settled back into the pillows.

The Cavalier theme song beeped from his go-phone on the night stand.

With a groan, he dragged a pillow over his face.

Peggy turned back, snatched up the go-phone and answered it. "No, Perfect Tommy, there is nothing Buckaroo can do about the cartoon situation. Have you considered playing in the snow? No? How about getting buried in the snow?" she was saying as she exited the room, closing the door behind her.

808080

"Pinky!"

The gate keeper glanced back over his shoulder to see Rawhide jogging toward him. Reno Nevada was only a step behind.

Pinky Carruthers stood on the corner of the Banzai Institute's block where he had followed the little footsteps of the lost children, trying to figure how far he should go.

"Fill me in." the big cowboy ordered, tossing him a spare coat, when he had caught up.

Gratefully, Pinky pulled the coat on and zipped it up right under his chin. "Jacklin and Duff found a couple of kids at the gate."

"Yea, met the popsicle twins." Reno piped in. "Where'd they come from?"

"That's what I'm aiming to find out." Pinky answered, returning his attention to the footprints. He started to follow them around the corner and down the street.

Rawhide and Reno followed.

"Damn, it's quiet out here." Reno mumbled after a few minutes. "Those kids must have been spooked all to hell to come out here alone."

Rawhide shrugged. "Bets they're out here everyday, playing with the neighborhood kids. It's only those of us old enough to remember the last black out who think this is anything other than an excuse for a school snow day."

Reno shivered as he remembered. "Those were dark days... no pun intended. Who'd have thought civilization could fall so far just due to a lack of electricity?"

Rawhide shook his head. "The criminal element is always there, Reno. Lights on or off, it is always there. The greed, the malice, the suspicions... just happens folks can hide it better in the light. All civilization is is the acknowledgment that that element is there coupled with the attempt to keep it hidden."

"Hell." Pinky mumbled. "Here I thought civilization was the ignorin' that that element was there." He stopped, his eyes rising from the ground. "So, who leaves the door open on a morning like this?" He nodded to a house across the street which the little footprints seemed to have come from.

Rawhide frowned. "Let's find out." He lead the way across the street and headed for the house.

All three men stopped cold when the front gate squeaked when he pushed it open.

Reno took a shaky breath. "Anyone else got the shivers?"

"It's cold." Rawhide answered him, continuing on.

But Reno and Pinky hesitated.

"Really." Pinky mumbled, assuring the writer. "He's freaked too.... he's just more civilized than we are."

At the door, Rawhide paused to knock. "Hello? Anyone home?"

There was no answer.

"This is Rawhide from the Banzai Institute. We've found your children." he tried again.

Nothing.

Rawhide glanced back at his men. "Reno, wait here. Pinky, let's take a look. And remember: folks are scared. This is their home and they have every right to protect it."

"Same as I would." Pinky grumbled, following him into the house.

"Hello? Anyone home?" Rawhide continued to call as he and Pinky walked into the living room. With a nod, he directed Pinky to the dining room to the left while he probed deeper into the room. "There's no need to be afraid." he assured whoever might be in the house. "We only want to help."

A glass sat on an end table. The clear liquid within was frozen. The house plants, wilted and cracking, were also suffering from the extreme cold of the house. Burnt out candles rested here and there, but their flames had gone out long ago, leaving them dead and cold. The edges of the windows were iced almost decoratively, the ice spreading in a snow flake like pattern.

"Rawhide, there's a dog dish." Pinky warned as he returned from the other room. "But it's small. Probably one of those little yappy things." He paused to look around. "Why isn't it yapping?"

The big cowboy shrugged. "Let's check the bedrooms." he suggested heading down the hall.

The first room was a bathroom. The tub had been filled with water, an attempt to save what was left in the pipes when the electric powered pumps died. Like the other liquids in the house, it was iced over.

"I'm really not liking this." Pinky mumbled. Almost without thought, he unzipped his coat and checked his gun.

"Easy." Rawhide reminded him, though he too rested a hand on his hip where his own weapon hid under his coat. He lead the way to the next room.

A kid's room with bunk beds, though one didn't have any blankets. The other was piled with heavy blankets and a couple of stuffed toys: one pink rabbit with long, floppy ears; the other a brown, pudgy teddy bear. Varies other toys and clothing were scattered across the floor. The window was covered with a sleeping bag that was taped into place.

"They must've been sharing the bed to keep warm." Rawhide observed. He couldn't help but thank whatever great entity might be responsible that Ducky was safe and sound and warm back at the house.

"So, `someone' was looking after them." Pinky backed out of the room. "Where's mommy and daddy?" he wondered.

They continued to the last room, a large master bedroom. The door was open. The big bed had only a blanket or two, but was covered with coats and clothing. On the nightstand on the far side of the bed was a bottle of cough medicine tipped on its side. The huge windows were also covered, but with sheets.

There was a whimper.

The two men stopped.

Rawhide held up a hand, indicating that Pinky should stay where he was. Then he started forward, around the bed. "Hello? We don't mean any harm." he assured.

On the floor beside the bed was a woman. She laid on the floor, curled in a tight ball around a small Scottish terrier dog. She seemed unconscious, her skin deathly pale. She shuddered with each struggled breath. The sweats she wore under her robe were wet with sweat, the bits exposed to the cold air stiff with initial freezing.

The dog looked up at him and wined.

"Aw, damn." he gasped. "Pinky, call us some transport." he ordered, ripping a blanket off the bed and dropping down to wrap it around her.

The terrier snipped at him, but Rawhide snatched it up. "And take this."


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

J.B. poked at his hot cereal with his Micky Mouse spoon. He just couldn't seem to bring himself to eat it. Not that he didn't like it or anything like that. Fact was hot cinnamon toast grits was one of his very favoritest cold morning breakfasts. Almost like having desert first thing... and there wasn't a mom on the whole world that could say he couldn't have it, 'cause, as odd as it was, it was also good for him.

But this morning he just couldn't seem to eat.

He looked across the room to where the two new kids huddled together, trying to warm up. They were now wearing dry clothes (Ducky's wool jumper and J.B.'s furry one-piece sleeper), blankets wrapped around their shoulders, their own hot breakfast gobbled up, Big Norse sitting beside them. She had given up trying to get them to talk to her, so she just stayed close until they decided to talk on their own.

J.B. sighed. He climbed out of his seat, picked up his bowl, and started across the room.

"Hey." Ducky called after him, frowning at his departure. "Where you goin'?" She hated when he did stuff like this. How was she supposed to keep an eye on the little runt when he's always up and wandering away?

Big Norse glanced up as J.B set his bowl on the table in front of her and the two little strangers. He struggled up into the adult size chair, settling on his knees. "Hi." he offered up to the children.

The two just looked at him.

J.B. chewed on his lip. He glanced at their empty bowls and his full bowl. Again he sighed. Then he pushed his bowl across the table to the little girl. "Here. Have mine. It's still hot. An' it's good." he offered.

"Oh, J.B." Norse started. "That's very nice, but we can get them some more if..." She stopped when the girl reached out and pulled the bowl closer.

She smiled shyly at J.B. and mumbled "I like cinnamon toast." It was the first time she or her brother had spoken since they had arrived.

Norse's eyes went big.

"Well, 'course that's what'd it take." growled Ducky as she climbed up beside J.B. With a shake of her head, she shoved her own bowl at the boy. "Might as well eat up." she suggested. "Can't ride fences with a growly stomach. Scares the horses." she repeated what her father had told her many times when he had taken her for rides.

"Horses?" the little boy grinned. He looked up at his sister. "They got horses?"

Ducky might not have been too happy with giving up her breakfast, but she was more than happy to tell them all about "her" horses.

Ten minutes later, and another round of hot grits for everyone, the children were giggling and chatting as if they had known each other their entire short lives.

"Hey."

Norse looked up as Perfect Tommy pushed through the swinging doors, heading for the kitchen.

"Uncle Tommy!" J.B. and Ducky cheered, quickly followed by a "Did you fix the T.V.?"

Tommy huffed. "See? That's the sort of appreciation I get around here." Despite that, he leaned over and gave each of the children a light kiss on the forehead, not noticing the extra pair of kisses doled out, before continuing on and disappearing into the kitchen.

Wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, the new little boy complained "He kissed me!"

"Who was that?" his sister wanted to know.

"Uncle Tommy." Ducky explained. "He tends to be ditacted."

"That's distracted, baby." Norse corrected, rather amused at her daughter's explanation.

Perfect Tommy stepped back into the dining room. His eyes narrowed as he looked the children over. "One... two... three..." He glanced at Norse. "How'd that happen?"

Norse laughed. "Long story."

"Can't be all that long. There were only two a couple hours ago." Perfect Tommy protested.

"Rawhide saved them." Ducky told him.

Tommy frowned at her. "I thought Rawhide wanted you to call him `dad'." he reminded.

Ducky huffed. "Yea? Well, there sure is a lot the fellas in this house are gonna want and ain't gonna get."

Perfect Tommy opened his mouth for a retort, but, remembering how old she was, turned to Big Norse. "Um?"

Big Norse grinned. "That's my girl!"

808080

New Jersey laid a gentle hand over the woman's forehead. "Fever's high, but we can take care of it." He looked up at Rawhide and Peggy who waited by the door. "But another day in that freezer and there wouldn't be anything we could do for her." He took a moment to tuck the blanket in around her, waved an intern to the bed, then he stepped away to the sink to wash his hands.

"I'll tell her children." Peggy offered. "We can bed them down with ours until their mother is up to looking after them. When can they see her?"

Jersey shrugged. "Let's give her a day's rest. See how she's doing come morning."

"Thanks, Sidney. Excellent as always." She stepped up to offer him a kiss on the cheek, then hurried out of the room, calling over her shoulder "I'll send down some breakfast for you, and some coffee."

Rawhide bobbed his head at the doctor, thanking him, before turning and starting after the lady Banzai.

"Rawhide." Jersey stopped him. When he turned back, Jersey lowered his voice to keep the conversation between just them. "It was a pretty bad cold season this year. Ran out of flu shots, only about half of those who really needed it got any. And with the black out..." He glanced back at the sick women in his care. "She isn't gonna be the only one. And how many kids are gonna be brave enough to go looking for help?"

Rawhide scratched his chin. "You want us to go out looking for them?"

Jersey shrugged. "They are our neighbors. And we do have resources that they don't."

The big cowboy sighed. "Alrighty, doc. Give me a few medics and busses setting at the gate. I'll go round up a couple of teams." He shook a finger at the man. "But we just might be opening our gates to a whole lot of trouble we don't want."

The doctor smiled. "Why should it be any different today?"

808080

The rig tilted out over the edge of the overpass, caught only by a tiny porche tucked under its second axel. The long trailer leaned at an awkward tilt, braced up only by a bent over light pole and a smashed highway patrol car. Snow drifted lightly down on the accident scene, covering it in layers, marking the time it had laid there, lifeless.

Knuckles leaned forward on the steering wheel and gazed out the front window. "What do you think, boy?" she wondered. "Looks like it's been sitting there for awhile. Maybe more than a day."

Oddity wined.

Knuckles shook her head. "Guess there's not much choice, is there?"

The dog pawed at her arm, wining again.

The little bounty hunter sighed. "You know, sometimes I really miss sunny California." she growled, swinging her door open and sliding out. Stepping aside, she ordered "Oddity, track!"

Instantly the dog leaped out of the vehicle and took off in the snow. He paused just long enough to sniff at the ground and then the air, before giving a bark and running off behind the trailer.

Knuckles huffed. "Probably a truck full of grungy, old cowboy boots." she grumbled, before turning and making her way toward the rig. She couldn't help but feel uneasy. She never did feel quite at home in the city. Too many people.

And people were never very trustworthy in Knuckles' book.

Well, not a hell of a lot of them anyways.

Somehow, though, she thought she'd prefer crowds of people to this empty, silent, white landscape. No one was out. Not on the roads. Not in the stores. New York's famous shopping malls were locked up. The parks were devoid of life. The harbors sat empty, the ships moving on to any port that might offer them warmth and power. The elite New York Police were unseen, their stations empty, their cars sitting silently at the curbs. Even the infamous urban taxis sat, lifeless, buried in snow. No one was leaving their homes for even a good ol' fashion snow ball fight.

The whole state looked like some scene from a post apocalyptic Christmas movie.

Almost without thinking, Knuckles released the snaps on her coat, making her ever present Starr Army Revolver easy to reach.

"Hello?" she called as she reached the porche. She wasn't overly surprised to see a scraped and broken hand pinned between the crushed in roof and the window. She knew the driver was dead even before she felt for a pulse.

Tended to happen when a penny racer took on a big rig.

"Idiot." Knuckles grumbled. She crouched down to see if she could get a better look into the crushed car, see if anyone else might be inside. But there was nothing she could see. It would take a lot of heavy equipment and man power if anyone was ever to get a look at the passenger seat.

With a shake of her head, she continued on to the cab of the truck. "Hello?" she continued to call, hoping to hear an answer. Not that she believed she would get one. Anyone who would have survived the accident would have either been evacuated to the hospital by now, or froze to death during the night.

Shucks, even before the power went out, the news had been full of stories of homeless being found dead all over the city. Frozen in their sleep on park benches, on door steps, in gutters…

Now that everything was shut down…

Well, the news wasn't broadcasting anymore, but it didn't take a genius to know it'd get a hell of a lot colder when there was no longer any power to run the heaters.

As she drew closer, Knuckles' attention sharpened. There was something very wrong about the truck. The long nose of the truck was scrapped, like something had pushed it. Three finger size holes were clustered in the door, another six spread out.

Bullet holes.

"Crap." Knuckles hissed, pulling her Starr free and checking the load.

"Something wrong, miss?"

Knuckles ground her teeth. She really had to get eyes in the back of her head.

Slowly turning around, she saw a very young man in a highway patrol uniform.

As soon as he saw her gun, he started for his, but Knuckles quickly held one hand up, returning the weapon to its holster. "Easy. I'm a bounty hunter. I have a license to carry a fire arm. It's in my back pocket."

The officer eased a little, though his hand remained on the butt of his own gun. "Yea? What's your name? Whatchya doin' here?"

As soon as the Starr was tied down, Knuckles raised both hands up. "Names Knuckles… Jessica James. I'm running supplies to the Banzai Institute. There's an order and delivery sheet on a clip board in my truck."

His eyes narrowed. "What sorta supplies?" he wanted to know.

Knuckles shrugged. "Food, fuel… supply stuff. Didn't really look at the list."

The officer huffed. "How you know you ain't hauling a butt load of crack or weed or ice or somethin'?"

Knuckles chuckled. "You really don't know anything about the Banzai Institute, do you?"

"Yea, well, think we better just take custody of the load and give it a real good look for ourselves."

The little bounty hunter stiffened. "Yea?… No, not gonna happen. You're not taking my load. Don't mind you taking a look. Don't mind giving you a ride, considering." She glanced back at the crushed patrol car. Her heart stopped.

Bullet holes. More than a dozen. Splashed across the hood, up the side of the car, cracking windows. Bloody boot print. Crowbar dropped below the forced door.

Licking her lips, she turned back to the officer. In a quick glance, her trained eye took in everything that was wrong with him.

His uniform was too big, baggy even. Pant cuffs turned up. The belt had a dull mark, noting that that was the hole usually used, not the one two holes tighter, being used now. His boots were street boots, laced but not tied, silver studs making them look tuff but not really dangerous. The heavy patrol coat's zipper was torn, hanging open just enough to see a dark red smear staining the tan lining. His hair was too long, greasy. He wore a diamond stud in one ear. The head of a snake tattoo poked up from under his collar, up his neck.

He held his hand out to her, the other taking a firm hold on the butt of his gun. "You gonna do just what you're told, Miss." he ordered.

Knuckles kept her hands up. "So… that your car? Pretty miraculous you got out of that without a scratch."

"Shit, no one got outta that mess alive!" he laughed. He eyed her. "What… what type of gun is that? Looks old. Is it expensive?"

Knuckles smiled. Carefully, with one hand she pulled the Starr free again, letting it dangle unthreatenly between her fingers. "Civil War Starr Army Revolver. Only six shots, but one is all it takes to put grizzly in its place."

He tilted his head. "Get many bears where you from?"

"Nope." Knuckles shook her head. "Just a lot of dumb asses who thinks it's a good idea to mess with the law. Remember? Bounty Hunter."

This time his laugh was a little uneasy. "Good thing I'm the law, huh? Otherwise we just might have a problem."

"A big problem." Knuckles agreed. "So… if you're good here, I'll just mount up and be on my way." She started to back towards her truck.

"Yea… can't let you do that." the phony cop answered taking a step towards her. "See, like I said, we're gonna take custody of that load."

Before he finished, Knuckles' hand snapped, her Starr flipping up into the palm of her hand, and she took aim.

The man in front of her froze.

"And, like I said, not gonna happen." she answered.

"Gonna happen." came another voice.

"Might take that ride though." chuckled a second from behind.

"And I'm thinking you'll do it with a smile." came a third.

Knuckles stopped cold. "Seriously, I'm gonna have to get me some eyes in the back of my head." she growled. Her empty hand up in the air again, she held her Starr up between two fingers in the other. "You know, this is going to be a lot more fun for me than you." she warned.

She heard the crunching snow as one of them stepped up behind her. "Wouldn't bet on it." was hissed in her ear. She was ready when he reached an arm around her waist and pulled her back against him.

Knuckles stepped back, the heal of one boot sliding down his shin as she grabbed his arm.

With a curse, the thug wobbled on his unwounded leg.

The bounty hunter spun, pulling his arm, and sending him sliding, face first, across the snow. "Oddity!" she shouted, dropping to one knee, and firing, dropping the phony cop as he struggled to get his own weapon out.

A snarl and a bark told her Oddity was on another.

But before Knuckles could find the third man, she was hit from behind. Time stopped just long enough for her to wonder if she had been hit by a truck, then she heard the shot.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

They had actually trained for this.

Perfect Tommy had called it the Armageddon Scenario.

Rawhide had made it very clear that no one was to call it that outside of the Bunk House. Last thing he needed was a swarm of panicking civilians all cramming for a last chance at survival.

Point being, when the gates of the Banzai Institute swung open, they knew what to do. Blue Blazes, mounted on horses, leading horse draw carts (part of the scenario was saving gas), headed out, calling out on blow horns. Tables were set up at the gate to check in visitors. Further in were areas to get food, medical help, and to just warm up.

Mrs. Johnson glanced at her clipboard. "Juju, make sure you get everyone signed in." she called to an intern at the first table before turning to check the clipboard handed to her by another. "Okay… okay, but run through the rooms first. Make sure no one left anything behind that might blow up a hapless civilian when they move into the room. Oh, and anything you don't recognize, call in Perfect Tommy's people." she ordered, handing the clipboard back. She couldn't help but add "Probably something one of them left behind anyway."

"Mrs. Johnson." Pinky gave her that disapproving look he saved just for her. "You should be up at the house. Too many department heads running around out here, vulnerable."

Mrs. Johnson smiled. "What do you thinks gonna happen, Pinky? Some little Death Dwarf disguised as a half froze, half starved kid is gonna wander in here and start hacking away?"

The Gate Keeper's eyes narrowed. Lifting his go-phone up, he called to his guards. "Hey, hoods down. Make sure those are kids in them big coats and not some crazed half pint." That done, he jabbed a finger at Mrs. Johnson. "You, back to the house!" He didn't bother to hang around to see if she would obey. Hell, he knew she wouldn't. But, least he felt better doing the whole finger jabbing thing.

Mrs. Johnson actually chuckled as he stomped away.

Another intern handed her another clipboard, asking "Is he for real?"

"Sweety, you should see him when there really is a Death Dwarf threat."

"Heads up, boys and girls!" Rawhide called as he marched down the driveway in front of the first visitors. "Lets get these folks logged and settled quickly. Be aware: Beta Team is bringing in a wagon load in three." He turned and started directing the civilians to the tables.

808080

Buckaroo wiggled the little light. "Say yaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

The small boy grinned. "Ya!" he cheered.

Buckaroo frowned. "Forgot the aaaaaaaaaa part."

He stuck out his toung, opened his mouth wide and… "Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa….."

Buckaroo shined the light down his throat. "Just what I thought." When the child looked up at him, he went on to say "Monkeys. You've got monkeys swinging on your tonsils. That's why your throat hurts." He tapped his nose. "No worries. I know just what will chase them monkeys away."

"Bananas?" the boys wondered.

But the doctor shook his head. "Nope. Monkeys like bananas." He looked at him with a frown and a raised eye brow. "You like cherries?" When he got an eager nod, Buckaroo grinned. "Good. 'Cause monkeys don't. I'm going to give your mother here a permission slip. It says that she has the doctor's okay to get you some sweet, yummy cherry medicine." He wrote a prescription as he spoke and handed it to the boy's waiting mother.

"Thank you, Doctor Banzai." she nearly cried. "I don't know what we would have done… we couldn't get to a hospital and I was so afraid…" She clutched his hand as if he was their only hope for survival.

Buckaroo smiled and gave her hand a reassuring pat. "Everything's going to be alright." he promised before turning her and her son over to an intern to get the prescription filled and return them to their family.

Buckaroo arched his back and rolled his shoulder. "Still alive over there, Sid?" he called to Jersey who was just cleaning up after his last patient.

"I've seen twenty-five patients in the last four hours in a MASH tent." Jersey told him. "Back hurts, neck aches, fingers numb, eyes rolling up in the back of my head. And I've ran out of lollipops."

Buckaroo chuckled. "Fun, huh? I spend too much time behind the microscope or surgical mask. Not nearly enough checking tonsils and handing out lollipops." Grabbing a handful of pops out of his cup, he crossed the tent and refilled Jersey's cup, saving one for himself. "Seemed like every other kid asked about your fuzzy pants…"

Jersey groaned. "One wardrobe mistake…. For crying out loud, it was my first day as a Cavalier! Why'd they pick that get up to design the doll after?"

Buckaroo's chuckle turned into a laugh. "Because… it gets that reaction."

Jersey dropped his chin to his chest and groaned again.

Buckaroo continued to chuckle as he popped the lollipop into his mouth and swung an arm around his friend's shoulders.

"Gentlemen." Mrs. Johnson called as she entered the tent, a clipboard in hand. "Looks like things are finally slowing down. Might grab some lunch while you have a moment." she suggested as she walked over to them. Steeling Buckaroo's lollipop, she shook it at him. "These are for the children."

"I'm young at heart." he protested. And, just to prove it, he stole another one from the cup. "So how does it look out there?"

"We covered three square miles. Contacted every house, let them know we're here and our doors are open. Those who didn't answer the doors, we left notes on their doors and question the neighbors." She glanced down at the clipboard. "Sixty-three medical assistance, two serious, hundred-seventy-two hot meals served, fifteen families request refugee housing, another twenty-eight families can remain in their homes if we can keep them supplied with wood and water." She shrugged. "And I was worried our winter stocks would go bad."

"Sounds like a full house." Buckaroo mumbled, rolling his newly acquired lollipop in his cheek.

"Yea, so, maybe you guys should get that solid food thing going before the wagons discover some new batch of half frozen nuggets to bring home." Mrs. Johnson waved her snatched lollipop at them before turning and heading back for the tent flap.

"Mrs. Johnson." Jersey called. "Can you get Knuckles to dig out the med supplies she brought in. We should have them down here."

"Knuckles?" She turned back. "Knuckles isn't here."

Jersey frowned. He looked down at his watch. "You sure? She should have been here two hours ago… at least."

But Mrs. Johnson shook her head. "She didn't come through the front gate."

Buckaroo scratched his head. "Could be just held up, taking the road extra careful. I wouldn't worry just yet. Still… Mrs. Johnson, check with Perfect Tommy. If anyone knows anything he will."

808080

When her eyes opened, all she saw was white. It wasn't until she blinked a couple of times, her eyelashes sweeping away the snow, did she realize why.

Knuckles tried to take a deep breath, but her lungs didn't seem to expand as far as they should.. Like something was pressing in on them. She could only take shallow breaths.

Sit up. Sit up helps air into the lungs. That's what the EMT people always did. Yup. She needed to sit up.

Carefully, she placed a hand on either side of her and started to push up.

She cried out, falling back into the snow.

Pain exploded across her back like a San Anna fire. It rushed down her legs, up across her shoulders, forcing them to constrict so tightly that, when the pain finally began its slow recoil, it left her muscles numb with exhaustion.

Face laying in the snow again, her tears crystallizing on her lashes, Knuckles gasped for breath.

"Huh. Bitch ain't dead yet." A boot slammed into her ribs, pushing what little air she had out and renewing the pain's assault all over again.

Knuckles would have screamed if there had been enough air in her lungs. Her world was falling into the blackness when a snarling bark sounded close by.

Oddity!

She had to get up. She had to protect Oddity. She had to…!

"God! Will that damn dog shut up?" the man standing over her shouted. He started to move away, waving his hands in the air. "How the hell did he get in there anyway?"

"Oh, man, Charlie, I think she killed him." another voice wined. "Koby… he ain't breathin', man."

"Shut up!" snapped Charlie. "You think I don't know he's dead? Well, guess what the fuck else? Sammy's bleeding to death! That mutt ripped his fuckin' throat out before you let him in the truck! Now they're dead, we can't get this bitch's load 'cause that damn dog locked himself in, and we got shit. Shit! A whole big damn, fuckin' pile of smokin' shit! You stupid ass, Jackie. I should shoot you myself."

"And where were you?" was argued right back. "So busy gettin' yourself some piece of ass, you ended up face first in the snow! Oh to our big, brave leader!"

Charlie shot him. Just up and shot him dead right then and there. "That's ode, you dumb shit!" he yelled, watching his punk buddy fall. Angrily, he paced, waving his gun in the air.

Oddity pawed at the window of Knuckles' truck, trying to get out. He hadn't meant to get locked inside. He had jumped through the open door dodging bullets and one of the punks was smart enough to slam the door close, trapping him. Unfortunately for the bad guys, Oddity's pawing locked the door. And everything about the hummer was armored and/or bullet proof. And the trailer was just as tough to crack.

"Fuck!" the remaining punk screamed, giving his victim another kick.

This time Knuckles had had enough breath to cry out, renewing Oddity's frantic barks. Squeezing her eyes close, tears frozen to her cheeks, her fingers curling in the snow.

Charlie grabbed her by the shoulder and rolled her over onto her back.

Again she cried out as pain burned across her back, leaving her limbs shaking and numb. But the snow and ice beneath her seemed to cool it a little.

He stood over her and kicked her legs apart. "Yea, well, 'least I can get me a piece of ass. Not a total loss." He dropped to his knees between her legs and started to undo her belt and pants.

Knuckles threw a weak punch at him, but only succeeded in tossing snow at him and making him even angrier.

"Bitch." he snarled. Grabbing her arm, he slammed it back against the ground with such force, the whip cracked her wrist. Letting it go, he slammed the back of his hand across her face, splitting her lip. Holding her down by the throat he leaned over her, pressing down on her air way. "Scream, bitch. Go ahead and scream." he snarled, while his free hand tugged on her jeans.

Knuckles smiled.

Charlie frowned, lifting his head up a little. "What the hell you smiling 'bout?"

"That gun… your buddy… liked…" she gasped. "There… were two… of them."

Charlie felt the jab of the barrel just under his rib cage.

Knuckles didn't bother to wait for his reaction. She pulled the trigger.

808080

Rawhide stood, arms crossed over his chest and watched as the civilians were escorted about the compound. It was going well. It took several hours, but only a straggler here and there wandered in. The wagons that had been used to pick up people and bring them in were now loaded with wood, blankets, and supplies for those who were returning to their homes. Children were bouncing around and laughing with Peggy Banzai and Big Norse as the women lead them through the snow to the gardens where Ducky's and J.B.'s play set and little school house were. Some of the children wore oversize BB coats, given to them when they came in with either insufficient or wet clothing. The adults staying with their families were being organized in groups then lead off to one of the three dorms cleaned out for them. The two MASH tents were being resupplied and…

"Pinky." Rawhide spoke.

"Yup?" the gate keeper answered. He stood at Rawhide's elbow, binoculars in hand, scanning any and every soul that stepped through his gate.

"I want 24/7 security on the tents." Rawhide told him. "There shouldn't be anything stronger than lollipops in there, but I don't want anyone trying to find that out for themselves. And we have a medic down there 24 hours. He needs security, particularly if he does any house calls to the dorms."

"Got it, got it, got it." Pinky mumbled as he wrote instructions down on his palm before sending them to his team captains. "Hey, if we're taking responsibility for the neighborhood, we should get some stations established outside the wall."

"Information, yes. Security, no."

Pinky shook his head, not excepting that. "Not everyone in town's all happy go lucky someone is around to help out folks. There's gonna be some have-nots going after the haves pretty soon."

Rawhide turned to face him. "Within these walls, it is our law. We have every right to enforce with whatever force we deem fit. Out there…" He waved a hand at the gate and the world beyond. "When the lights come back on, we have to be able to defend every action we take. And setting up security posts is just a little too apocalyptic of a step to take." He turned back to watch the civilians. "Information posts, communication. We go out as a force only when called for help."

Pinky still didn't like the answer. He understood it, just didn't like it. With a sigh, he nodded. "Yes, sir." But then something new caught his eye. "Did you hear anything about a hummer going out?" he wondered. Every vehicle, horse drawn or otherwise, was supposed to pass by him first, coming and going.

Frowning, Rawhide turned to see the hummer slowly making its way through the civilians, heading for the gate. "No." he mumbled his answer before he started across the drive to meet it. He almost wasn't surprised to see who the occupants were.

Reno was driving, Perfect Tommy sat shotgun, Pecos leaning between the front seats.

"What?" Rawhide wondered, leaning through the window to give each of them that look. "The usual Three Musketeers not avaible, you all dug up a new trio to mess up my day?"

"Yes." Perfect Tommy answered with a completely straight face and without a breath of hesitation.

Rawhide frowned all over again.

Reno chuckled, leaving the answering to Pecos. "Knuckles is over due. Over due enough that even Gage called to chew her out for not calling him sooner. She isn't answering her go-phone and her truck has been sitting in the same place for the last three hours."

"How far out is she?" the cowboy wanted to know.

"Something like forty minutes." Perfect Tommy answered. He was twitching, obviously wanting to get going. He was worried.

And, now, so was Rawhide. "Okay… Perfect Tommy, climb in back. Pinky…"

"Yup, I've got the home front." Pinky answered. "But you kids stay in touch, you hear?"

With a huff, Pecos scooted over to make room for Tommy on the back seat. "And here I thought Daddy was coming along for the ride."

808080

"Mrs. Johnson!"

The woman looked up to see a tall man dressed all in black for the exception of a white collar calling to her from the first table. She recognized him at once as one of the neighborhood leaders. "Father Gregory. It's good to see you. How's your flock?" she greeted, turning to meet him.

The priest nodded appreciatively. "Once more, thanks to the kindness of the Banzai Institute, my flock is doing well." But then his expression turned to concern. "But, another flock I am worried about. Do you know the Mosque on Harries street?"

"Yea, um, couple of our interns attended services there, I think. They alright?" Mrs. Johnson asked.

Father Gregory hesitated. "I'm not sure. When the power went out, we kept in touch, shared information. Both houses of worship were giving what sanctuary we could. But, I tried to contact them, let them know that you had opened your doors." He shook his head. "There was no answer. I don't know if their batteries have died in the radio, or, God forbid, something worse has happened. Mrs. Johnson, last I heard, there were more than forty souls taking refuge in the Mosque."

"Anyone try to drive over, take a look?"

Again the Father shook his head. "Ryan, St. Mary's gardener, took a truck this morning. I have not heard back from him. And I could not send anyone walking five miles in the frozen land."

Mrs. Johnson sighed. "Alright." she started, glancing around. "I'll round up a crew and send them over with fresh batteries and supplies. Make contact. Make sure everyone is fine and dandy."

"Thank you, sweet sister. You and the Blue Blazes… Truly heaven sent…" He offered her a little smile, adding "If, occasionally, a little off path."


End file.
